Chapter Text
July, 2002
10 year old Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin sat in a hard plastic chair in the hallway of the local Metropolitan Police office pretending he couldn’t hear what the sergeant was saying over the phone. If the officer said Children and Family Court one more time he was making a run for it.
Except he couldn’t.
Because the fucking filth prick was staring at him the whole time he chatted away as though he wasn’t deciding on Eggsy’s whole future. Eggsy’s mum was dead by the hand of her loser of a boyfriend Dean, leaving Eggsy all alone in life, and this prick was acting like he was ordering Chinese for lunchtime.
His mum... Eggsy choked down the sob that threatened, refusing to cry in front of the filth. What was he going to do? His da died when he was 5. No grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no one he could count on to take him in. Which was why the officer was calling around asking about what Children and Family Court Advisory and Support Service could do.
Eggsy knew what Cafcass meant. It meant foster care. And he did not want that. He’d gotten enough beatings from Dean thank you very much. A tear escaped, trickling down Eggsy’s cheek. He brought the collar of his polo up to wipe it free. His fingers brushed against the chain around his neck.
For the past 5 years Eggsy had worn a unique medallion. Twisted gold with pinkish enamel that always reminded him of a pirate ship’s wheel. If you held it on it’s side it looked like a ‘K’.
However, at the moment, Eggsy was not thinking of what the medallion looked like; but of the phone number on the back. He only vaguely remembered receiving the medal from a tall man half a decade before. But his mum had always said, over and over, whenever they had a moment without Dean... that the medal was a favour. Eggsy was to save it for an emergency where he had no way out.
And to Eggsy, this felt like just such an emergency. He yanked the chain and pulled the medallion off. He turned it over to see the phone number. Eggsy looked up at the officer, still staring at him as he sat there.
“Can I use a phone?” Eggsy asked the man. “Please?” He added as an afterthought when the officer narrowed his eyes.
“I thought you didn’t have any friends or family to call?” The distrust was plain on the Officer’s face.
“I just thought of someone, didn’t I?” Eggsy shot back hating the guy’s tone. Was this tosser really going to give him shit today?
The officer handed over his phone with a frown.
Eggsy flipped open the mobile and dialed the number on the back of his medallion. It rang once and a pleasant female voice answered. “Customer complaints. How may I help you?”
“Um, my name's Eggsy Unwin. Sorry, um, Gary Unwin. And I'm up shit creek; I'm in an urban police station and my mom said to call this number if ever I needed help... “ Eggsy stuttered, unsure how much he should be disclosing over the phone.
The lady quickly cut him off, her voice losing it’s pleasantness. “I'm sorry, sir. Wrong number.”
Eggsy panic flared but a phrase came to him. “Wait, wait... Oxfords not Brogues?”
“Your complaint has been duly noted, and we hope that we've not lost you as a loyal customer.” Was the response Eggsy got. What did that mean? How was that help? Some favour!
“Well?” The officer asked, his hand out for Eggsy to return his phone.
Dejected, Eggsy handed it to him. “I left a message.” At least he think he did?
“Well then, we’ll wait an see who shows up first, your friend or the people from Children and Family Court and then you can give your statement.” He walked away leaving Eggsy to sit alone with his grief.
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Harry Hart was enjoying a rare quiet moment at home with his husband. It was their tradition to take the first week off after the summer school term ended. It wasn’t a holiday exactly, if there was an emergency they were still on call. But they were home in order to spend that first week with their now 11 years old son; Channing.
Channing was currently playing at a friend’s house though and Harry had settled down with his husband Hamish to catch up on some reading for work. Harry was perched in his favorite arm chair, Hamish half reclined on the matching loveseat. He checked the clock on the mantle to see that they still had over an hour before their son was due. Not taking his gaze away from the dossier he kicked his house slipper off, reached his foot out, and brushed his toes against his husband’s ankle. When Hamish looked up, Harry kept his features as innocent as he could while keeping his toes at work.
Merlin chuckled. “I know your next mission is nae a honeypot. Care to explain what part of that mission briefing has you feeling amorous?”
Harry looked over at his husband with his best flirtatious smile. “I’m quite sure I...”
His response was cut off as an alarm sounded shrilly from Merlin’s mobile. The man flipped it open reading the message. “Harry, the medal you gave Lee Unwin’s family has just been called in.”